Krishna Leela: I was Kaliya, Until I wasn’t

Some stories in the scriptures do not come to entertain us.
They come to reveal us. They show our quiet struggles, our invisible wounds, and the peace we keep searching for.

One such story for me was the Kaliya Leela from the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam.

A few months ago, everything in my world looked perfect on paper.
Goals achieved. Projects delivered. Recognition flowing.
Yet inside, something felt poisoned.

My thoughts were heavy.
My relationships were reactive.
My leadership felt efficient but empty.

And then this ancient leela returned to my mind. The moment when Krishna enters the poisoned Yamuna to face Kaliya, the serpent who had turned a sacred river dark with fear and ego.

Kaliya was powerful, yet hollow.
Feared, yet not respected.
Loud on the outside, frightened on the inside.

Krishna did something extraordinary.
He did not kill him.
He danced on his hoods with complete grace.
He chose compassion instead of punishment and purification instead of destruction.

That truth reached me very quietly and very deeply.

I realised I was not Krishna in my story.
I was Kaliya.

Every time I chose pride instead of patience,
Every time I pushed for results without empathy,
Every time I shut down creativity or honest feedback,
I was poisoning my own Yamuna.

And then came the part of the leela that changed me forever.

When Kaliya collapsed, his wives approached Krishna.
They did not defend him.
They did not hide the truth.
They simply asked for mercy with complete sincerity.

They said something I will always remember:

“Your punishment, O Lord, is Your mercy. You punish only to purify.”

That line transformed how I lead, how I love, and how I understand myself.

Mistakes are not the end.
They are invitations to grow.
They soften the ego.
They open the heart.
They prepare us for a more grounded strength.

The Kaliya Leela is not only the story of a serpent being subdued.
It is the story of all of us.
It teaches us to let Krishna dance on the parts of us that are rigid or fearful or inflated.

Since then, I have been learning to listen instead of react.
To lead with presence instead of pressure.
To forgive myself instead of fighting myself.

Because the Yamuna does not stay poisoned forever.
Krishna purifies when we stop resisting and allow Him to.

From Kāliya to Clarity

All of us stand somewhere between ego and empathy, fear and surrender, noise and truth.

The real question is:

Can we recognise when we are the serpent?
Can we allow grace to humble us and heal us?

You do not need to fight your poison.
You only need to allow the dance to begin.

Have you had your own Kaliya moment?
A moment when life revealed your shadow not to shame you, but to shape you?